scene of misery which I knew the ship itself would present me with,
in a more lively manner than I could have it by report, I took the
captain of the ship, as we now called him, with me, and went
myself, a little after, in their boat.
I found the poor men on board almost in a tumult to get the
victuals out of the boiler before it was ready; but my mate
observed his orders, and kept a good guard at the cook-room door,
and the man he placed there, after using all possible persuasion to
have patience, kept them off by force; however, he caused some
biscuit-cakes to be dipped in the pot, and softened with the liquor
of the meat, which they called brewis, and gave them every one some
to stay their stomachs, and told them it was for their own safety
that he was obliged to give them but little at a time. But it was
all in vain; and had I not come on board, and their own commander
and officers with me, and with good words, and some threats also of
giving them no more, I believe they would have broken into the
cook-room by force, and torn the meat out of the furnace – for
words are indeed of very small force to a hungry belly; however, we
pacified them, and fed them gradually and cautiously at first, and
the next time gave them more, and at last filled their bellies, and
the men did well enough.
But the misery of the poor passengers in the cabin was of another
nature, and far beyond the rest; for as, first, the ship’s company
had so little for themselves, it was but too true that they had at
first kept them very low, and at last totally neglected them: so
that for six or seven days it might be said they had really no food
at all, and for several days before very little. The poor mother,
who, as the men reported, was a woman of sense and good breeding,
had spared all she could so affectionately for her son, that at
last she entirely sank under it; and when the mate of our ship went
in, she sat upon the floor on deck, with her back up against the
sides, between two chairs, which were lashed fast, and her head
sunk between her shoulders like a corpse, though not quite dead.
My mate said all he could to revive and encourage her, and with a
spoon put some broth into her mouth. She opened her lips, and
lifted up one hand, but could not speak: yet she understood what
he said, and made signs to him, intimating, that it was too late
for her, but pointed to her child, as if she would have said they
should take care of him. However, the mate, who was exceedingly
moved at the sight, endeavoured to get some of the broth into her
mouth, and, as he said, got two or three spoonfuls down – though I
question whether he could be sure of it or not; but it was too
late, and she died the same night.
The youth, who was preserved at the price of his most affectionate
mother’s life, was not so far gone; yet he lay in a cabin bed, as
one stretched out, with hardly any life left in him. He had a
piece of an old glove in his mouth, having eaten up the rest of it;
however, being young, and having more strength than his mother, the
mate got something down his throat, and he began sensibly to
revive; though by giving him, some time after, but two or three
spoonfuls extraordinary, he was very sick, and brought it up again.
But the next care was the poor maid: she lay all along upon the
deck, hard by her mistress, and just like one that had fallen down
in a fit of apoplexy, and struggled for life. Her limbs were
distorted; one of her hands was clasped round the frame of the
chair, and she gripped it so hard that we could not easily make her
let it go; her other arm lay over her head, and her feet lay both